


since forever

by gyuldaengie



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff, JunHao - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Slice of Life, Soonhoon - Freeform, jihancheol, meanie, side ships are grinding more than the main ship, verkwan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-03 02:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17275556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyuldaengie/pseuds/gyuldaengie
Summary: ...a not so soulmate au wherein lines appear on your wrist whenever a “love” is about to die and mingyu has been in love with wonwoo since forever and no line has yet to appear on the former’s wrist despite the fact that the latter probably has more than their fingers combined…





	1. zero

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this idea for a minwon fic since before new year and it has been haunting me so i decided to start writing it despite the fact that i'm not yet done conceptualizing it and honestly, i'm just really happy to post something because i said i'll write more this year, so here ya go! enjoy!

Mingyu doesn’t know where it all started.

There was nothing on anything that he’s ever read about history that talks about the lines. He supposes, it might’ve just occurred naturally and began since the beginning of time. How else could people’s nonchalance about it be explained?

Heck, when he’d first sighted one, he’d thought it was just some sort of marker to indicate membership to a cult, and nine year old Mingyu seemed to have accepted that idea, no matter that it seemed far-fetched that Mrs. Park--wrinkly, senile, and almost mummy-like in all her ghostly and bony glory--would be a part of some dangerous organization.

Though, obviously, that doesn’t stop his hyperactive imagination from wondering how that must’ve been like for the first human on the planet.

 _Were they confused? Did they know it just as it appeared? How did they know?_ were the questions Mingyu often found himself browsing the Internet for, (and not surprisingly, to no avail). He’d often look through his own answers to these questions as well, sighing in disappointment when he realizes he’s just making his life more confusing and himself, more miserable: yes, he had been confused since no, he didn’t know just when the lines appeared because his wrists are still as blank as ever and he’s been living with them for twenty-one years now, he’s wondering if they’ll ever appear because, goddamit, he’s still as in love with the boy who was then the reason he even came to know about the lines at all, as he is now.

Jeon Wonwoo, with his fox-like eyes and cat-like mannerisms, who gets cold at even the slightest drop in temperature, who gets followed around by girls everywhere because he’s just that handsome, who is quiet and introverted but also very loud and extroverted when he’s in the mood, and who is also, by some miracle, Kim Mingyu’s best friend, showed up to school one day with a line on his wrist. He had been fourteen and Wonwoo, fifteen.

They’d had classes the whole day and had spent lunch and, at least, three or four subjects together but only when they were finally in the comforts of Wonwoo’s room, crashed on his bed with their bags on the floor and the PlayStation opened, did Mingyu finally notice the line on his wrist. He was one hundred percent sure that line hadn’t been there the day before and was curious as to how he got it.

“Hey, hyung,” he’d said. “What’s that on your wrist?” Of course, nine year old Mingyu resurfaced in fourteen year old Mingyu’s brain, telling him that Wonwoo might be part of some cult that he didn’t know about, but like everything else that he hears about Wonwoo that isn’t a certified fact, he brushed it aside and waited for the older to answer.

“My bracelet?” Wonwoo asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen.

Mingyu’s character had died, but Wonwoo, like the amazing gamer that he is, had managed to survive the previous attack. “No,” Mingyu replied, eyes still glued on his best friend’s wrist. “That line. The small black one.”

Wonwoo managed to clear the level and he let out a small _woop!_ before turning towards Mingyu with his head cocked to the side, as if only recently registering the younger’s question. “You mean this?” Wonwoo held up his left wrist and showed Mingyu the tattoo-like caricature of a small, crooked line, embossed on his skin.

Mingyu nodded.

“They’re _préavis_. ‘Prior notice’ when translated from French.”

Wonwoo had said it so resolutely that Mingyu wasn’t sure if he was supposed to have gotten everything from that information alone. What he was sure of, however, was his face, looking like the epitome of confusion and also, maybe, hesitance. He was debating whether or not it was worth it to look stupid and a dumbass, just to ask the older to explain what he means. But like always, he need not do anything because Wonwoo can read him like an open book and he was already asking his own questions, curious, like Mingyu. “Your parents haven’t told you about the lines?”

The younger frowned, trying to recall if his family had ever been bored enough to discuss such a feeble thing and wondering why a line, of all things, should be discussed. “Were they supposed to?”

Wonwoo laughed. “Well, yeah, seeing as you’re already fourteen and still clueless.” Mingyu remembered pouting. “Like I said, they’re _préavis_. It means they appear before something happens, a sort of warning or precaution. Prior notice, like what it translates to.”

There was panic in Mingyu’s eyes because Wonwoo had said ‘warning’ and ‘precaution’ and he knew those two words never seemed like foreshadowings of a good omen. He also knew, even before he had realized he was head over heels for the boy, that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, so pushing aside his curiousity, he asked, “What do you mean warning? Will something bad happen? Are you okay?”

Wonwoo smiled and his nose scrunch appeared, and for a moment, that day, Mingyu thought he forgot how to breathe. “Mingyu, relax. It isn’t all that bad.”

“What is ‘ _isn’t all_ that _bad_ ’ supposed to mean? Doesn’t that mean that it’s still bad?”

“No,” Wonwoo snorted, turning back towards the game they were playing. His face became somber then. “Just means a love is about to die.”

Mingyu startled. “Die?!” But Jeon Wonwoo’s attention wasn’t on him anymore and his mind was no longer processing the conversation Mingyu was still hung up on, so the way he always does, Mingyu shook away his thoughts and stashed them for later, and resumed trying, in what could only be his millionth attempt, to beat Wonwoo in the video game that he knows how to play best.

When they’d finished, and he was on his way home after Mrs. Jeon had insisted he join them for dinner, Mingyu let his thoughts wander back to his conversation with his best friend, the chilly night hugging him through the folds of his jacket and coat, and his fingers eventually numbing at how slow he had been making himself walk.

His house wasn’t that far, only a few streets away, but Mingyu couldn’t have made it shorter than it actually was the way he had been walking that night. His mind kept replaying Wonwoo’s words: ‘ _Just means a love is about to die_.’ disassembling it and then conjuring it right back up, looking for its hidden meaning.

When he’d arrived home, the first thing he did was snatch his mom’s wrist, who had, that time, flicked his forehead as she was cooking for some aunt or the other that Mingyu could no longer remember, and look at them. He’d counted two before she told him to move away, so he sat on the dining table, waiting for her to finish, until she could entertain his questions.

“Mingyu-yah, what’s wrong with you today?” his mom had asked when she was done, wiping her hands on the green, flower-patterned apron she had on. It was a gift from Mingyu and Minseo during Mother’s Day, the previous year. She had been eyeing it from the store and they’d thought to buy it with some help from their father. “You didn’t even kiss me when you got home.”

“Sorry, mom,” Mingyu replied, standing up and planting a kiss on his mother’s cheeks. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

Mrs. Kim smiled and ruffled his hair, looking at her son, fondly. It was no secret that Mingyu was a bubble of energy, and alongside that, filled to the brim with creativity and overflowing with curiousity. His mind works wonders and conjures the craziest and most absurd thoughts, and it often upsets him when he doesn’t find the answer he’s looking for. It didn’t surprise her now that Mingyu had been acting out of character because of something on his mind, his earlier shenanigan swiftly forgotten. “And what might those be?” she asked him.

“ _Préavis_ or prior notice,” he said and looked up at her from where he was focused on a stain on their wooden table. “What does it mean?”

Mrs. Kim looked shocked for a moment and Mingyu saw her eyes dart to his wrists.

“It’s not mine,” he explained. “Wonwoo hyung has it. Or got it. I haven’t really understood what it means.”

His mother chuckled and pulled out a chair, planting herself on it and taking Mingyu’s hand. “Well, a _préavis_ is a sort of warning--”

“I know I--”

Mrs. Kim gave her son a look and Mingyu shut his mouth, nodding his head to indicate that he won’t interrupt and smiling sheepishly at the fact that he had. “There’s a legend, from long ago, which tells of humans with two heads, four arms, four legs and four hearts. They were incredible creatures and the god, Zeus, was afraid that they would overpower him, someday, so he split them into two so that they could spend their whole lives looking for their other half, finding their missing piece, too busy to overthrow the gods.”

“It’s a soulmate story,” Mingyu quipped and his mother nodded.

“Zeus wanted them to suffer but did not let them go blindly searching the oblivion. He gave them _préavis_ so that they could tell when they’ve found their other half.”

Mingyu frowned. “But Wonwoo said… He said it’s a warning of a love about to die. How does that help people find their soulmates?”

Mrs. Kim smiled. “Well, Zeus is cruel and cunning. He knew it’d be too easy if he gave us, humans, an obvious hint, so, he made it so that we think we’ve found the one when in truth, we haven’t.” She started tracing invisible lines on Mingyu’s wrist as she continued. “The _préavis_ appears on one’s wrist when the love they’re experiencing is about to die. Or fade. This means, you’ve been in love with the wrong person, all this time; and that they’re not your soulmate, at all.”

Mingyu, who didn’t actually _know_ the concept of love, was quick to fire his questions just as they popped up in his head, ideas forming and festering inside his brain awaiting resolutions. “But how could you love a _wrong_ person? What use is _préavis_ if you’re only going to waste time like that? How does it love die if you _claim_ to love the person?”

Mrs. Kim chuckled and turned over her own wrist, exposing the two crooked lines which Mingyu had caught a glimpse of just awhile ago. “When I was in high school, I fell in love with this guy who showed me what it was like to be truly loved. I was popular, back in the day, and people would befriend me just to get a few minutes of fame, but this one guy… this boy... he told me he liked me for me.” She was sporting a smirk when she started, but Mingyu watched as it turned into a bitter a smile. “I grew attached to him, thought he was everything I ever wanted _and_ needed. But as it turns out, he was just like everybody else. A few days before I found him cheating on me with a girl ahead of our year, my first _préavis_ appeared.”

Mingyu was stunned. He’d never really asked about his parents love life outside their own happy marriage but it made sense that her mom would fall in love once or twice before he met his dad. “So… you were prepared for it?” Mingyu asked, hopefully. He’d seen that her mom still felt quite deeply about that memory--an attribute that he had inherited and was most certainly proud of--and it saddened him that she had to undergo through getting her first _préavis_ over such an asshole.

Mrs. Kim shook her head. “Another one of Zeus’ abominable trick: you’re aware that a love’s about to end but can do nothing about how you feel about it.”

“It doesn’t stop it from hurting?”

Mrs. Kim looked at Mingyu for a long moment before shaking her head, again, sadly.

And this was what stayed with Mingyu that whole night, the rest of the questions fluttering inside his brain looking and sounding muted, unimportant against the contrast of this stark fact. He only belatedly realized the impact of what his mother had said when he was just about to drift off to sleep that night.

‘ _The_ préavis _appears on one’s wrist when the love they’re experiencing is about to die. Or fade._ ’ she’d said. ‘ _This means, you’ve been in love with the wrong person, all this time; and that they’re not your soulmate, at all._ ’

Did this mean… that Wonwoo had been in love with someone? _All this time?_

There was a thrumming in Mingyu’s tummy, and then a pounding on his chest, bile slowly rising to his throat, and finally, a ringing in his ears. At first, he wasn’t sure what it was, the realization that had been kept at bay until his eyes were rolling close and lids were drooping shut. And then he realized the emotions which flared deep within him at the idea that was now blossoming and taking form inside his hyperactive brain was _jealousy_ and he was utterly confused.

It was during that night that he came to the conclusion that he might just like his best friend as more than _just_ a best friend.

The sun had set and risen on Kim Mingyu, trying to convince himself that no, he wasn’t, in fact, in love with a certain boy named Jeon Wonwoo, just maybe a little hurt that his _supposed_ best friend had told him nothing about him falling in love, and then later, trying to convince himself that he’s not really the jealous type and so he maybe needed to accept the fact that he might just like the older a little, so that he could at least have some sense of peace before starting the day, and then eventually getting frustrated at that ridiculous thought which makes him question, why, of all people, he had to be the one cursed with such a studious imagination, that when dawn came, he, who loved sleep more than his own mother’s cooking (and she cooked magnificently), had still not slept a wink.

Mingyu thinks it’s impossible to forget that day. And he realizes that he should probably add that to the growing list of ‘ _impossibles_ ’ he’s accumulated over time, like: Wonwoo realizing Mingyu’s helplessly in love with him or Wonwoo liking him back, or even Wonwoo looking less like Mingyu’s ideal man and more of Mingyu’s best friend or Mingyu’s _préavis_ for the root cause of all his misfortunes to appear as soon as fucking possible, et cetera, et cetera.

He thinks it now as he watches Wonwoo get ready for his date with Soonyoung; and for the nth time, Mingyu wishes he could forget, wishes he didn’t have to know what _préavis_ meant and realized that the boy who showed him its meaning would be the _préavis_ to all his other heartaches and the cause of his only one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it looks better as a one-shot, don't it? ack i don't know if i should continue it lest it becomes a disappointment huhu but well, i guess, we'll see? tell me your thoughts!


	2. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mingyu sends his love to Wonwoo's new lover and Jeonghan is w h i p p e d the fuck up for someone who might already like him back.

Mingyu’s never really understood the depth of the feeling he has for Wonwoo.

Not that he doesn’t _know_ he’s in love with the boy, no, not at all. He’s learned to accept that truth over the course of the time they knew each other, as a matter of fact, and it was only that Jeon Wonwoo could just simply be… _breathing_ and Mingyu’s heart would stutter in his chest like a shy kid on his first day of school, trying to introduce himself.

 It’s pathetic, really, how much the boy affects him.

Just last week, Mingyu had come home from work to find Wonwoo trying (and oh yes, _trying_ was definitely the word) to cook and he’d halted his steps on the doorway in awe of the older’s clumsiness and dorkiness. He’d never seen a more adorable human being and couldn’t fathom how Wonwoo managed to make clumsy look so _damn_ good when Mingyu himself was a catastrophic disaster waiting to happen.

Then there was the other day, Mingyu had been playing on his phone in the apartment living room when Wonwoo had wondered out of his room with a puzzled expression on his face as though unsure about why he’d gone out in the first place. Mingyu had dropped the phone on his face in astonishment.

With one hand still holding the doorknob, Wonwoo looked up and met Mingyu’s eyes (which was now phone free), and the latter could swear Wonwoo could hear his heart going _badump!_ _badump!_ on his chest despite the distance that separated them.

“Hey?” Mingyu had chuckled nervously, holding up his phone so it only slightly covered his blushing face. “What’s up?”

Wonwoo cocked his head to the side--his signature pose and a sure indication that he was either thinking or confused--and had said, in the gruffest voice Mingyu has ever heard, “I… forgot why I came out of the room,” slinking back inside his den like he’d never come out to begin with.

Mingyu had never seen a more beautiful expression of Wonwoo ever since, looking completely befuddled when his face was often masked with intelligent confidence. And though getting hit by a huge ass phone really hurt, he found that he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face just yet.

And now, as Wonwoo sat by the doorway, fixing his shoelaces, Mingyu couldn’t help but admire the older boy’s _back_.

Hidden by a jean jacket that hugged his frame well with his now too long but permed hair peeking out from under his collar looking oddly like a mullet, Wonwoo looked every bit like Mingyu’s muse for the past _n_ million times he attempted life drawing, sketches now stashed somewhere hidden inside his room.

Well, Wonwoo _is_ Mingyu’s muse but Mingyu wouldn’t admit that. He’d die first.

Hunched in a way that exudes softness but also a muted roughness, all silk and satin and sharp edges in its entirety at the same time, Mingyu could only wish then and there that he could draw Wonwoo’s figure unapologetically and with justice. He is just the perfect specimen.

Though he’d never fully confess to drawing him, he had been trying to capture Wonwoo’s physique during his free time until Wonwoo had randomly barged into his room, one day, while he was drawing, and Mingyu, the panicked gay that he was, had only managed to push all his sketches of the boy into his (thankfully) empty trash bin and belched out an unbelievable coughing fit while forcing himself to turn beet red to feign sickness. In hindsight, it wasn’t Mingyu’s _wisest_ plan and had actually induced the _opposite_ of what Mingyu was trying to do, but it served well as a reminder that he shouldn’t be trying to draw his best friend in secret. Never again had he tried drawing Wonwoo when the both of them were under the same roof. 

“I’m going,” Wonwoo says, eventually, startling Mingyu out of his thoughts, as he stands up and fixes his jean jacket while looking at the younger. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? Soonyoung won’t mind.”

Mingyu snorts. “Yeah? Well, I’d mind,” he says, teasing. “I don’t want to see you guys up in each other’s faces like the last time I third-wheeled on one of your dates.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Like you ever.”

Mingyu laughs, shakes his head, and stands up to see the older boy out. Wonwoo and Soonyoung have been seeing each other for a couple of weeks now and every Saturday, when Soonyoung manages to drag Wonwoo out of the apartment, the latter invites Mingyu to go along with them. But Mingyu hasn’t really been very good at hiding his emotions and he’s so sure everyone but Wonwoo could see that he was in love with the older, so naturally, he’s always declined.

Just imagining Wonwoo’s date, looking at him as he realizes that Mingyu is head over heels in love with the person he’s dating, is too much of an embarrassment to even think about. Though that’s not to say Mingyu hasn’t met Soonyoung, or any of Wonwoo’s love interests, for that matter, but it was particularly difficult with him.

Mingyu thinks it a good thing that he wasn’t around when the boy had asked Wonwoo out, else his face had contorted with undeniable hurt and pain, Wonwoo would’ve thought to threaten the whole house party for even attempting to strike a civilized conversation with Mingyu.

“Gyu!”

Mingyu looks up from where he’s spaced out and looks at Wonwoo who is staring at him, amusedly, from the doorway. The younger tries to school his expression and wills his cheeks not to color; that was the second time today that Wonwoo had to call out Mingyu’s name to get his attention and it wasn’t even lunch time. Mingyu thinks he should really stop daydreaming about Jeon Wonwoo but begrudgingly remembers that he can’t even stop himself from reminiscing encounters with the guy, and just finally decides that he wants to slap himself. He clears his throat. “What?”

Wonwoo’s lips quirk up a little and he shakes his head, and for a moment Mingyu berates himself for not listening because now, he’ll never know what Wonwoo had said. “Never mind,” the older says and then proceeds to open the door. “I’ll be back before dinner. Don’t eat without me.”

It was then Mingyu’s turn to roll his eyes. “Like I ever.” He follows Wonwoo’s chuckles out their apartment door and then waves at him goodbye, watching, still, as his best friend round the corner of their hallway and a _ping!_ from the elevator signifies its arrival. “Don’t forget to use protection!” Mingyu calls out and when he hears nothing, he assumes the elevator wasn’t as empty as he’d first thought.

 _Oops_ , Mingyu thinks.

He’s in the process of bolting the door shut when his phone, from where Mingyu had left it lying around on the couch, chirps with the notice of an incoming text message. Another one follows shortly after and Mingyu jogs towards it to abate his growing curiousity.

The first one is from Wonwoo and it read, “ _I hate you_ ” and Mingyu just _knew_ that he’d embarrassed his hyung with what he’s done just a couple of seconds ago. It makes him smile. It didn’t matter that the message should’ve induced a less _ecstatic_ reaction; just seeing Wonwoo’s name on his notifications sends absurdly annoying butterflies rampaging inside Mingyu’s tummy and he might be in a love-hate relationship with it.

Eventually, when he’s done smiling at his screen and he’s waited long enough not to sound too eager, Mingyu decides to send out an emoticon with its tongue out, because if there’s anything Kim Mingyu is, aside from ‘completely whipped for a boy named Jeon Wonwoo’, he is also twenty-one and still, very much, a child.

The next one, he finds, is from Jeonghan, inviting him out to the café a few blocks down their apartment complex. The message had simply read, “ _We’re going boy-watching. Come now_ ”. True, it had indicated no location, but Mingyu knew that when Jeonghan says ‘ _boy-watching_ ’, the older usually means ‘ _spend hours with me as i watch the apple of my eyes, love of my life, sun to my Icarus, Choi Seungcheol_ ’, and Mingyu is sure that the said boy most definitely works at the aforementioned cafe.

He snickers and types back a reply: _You mean,_ you’re _going boy-watching while Shua-hyung and I try to pretend we’re interested about Seungcheol-hyung’s sparkling eyes and apparently attractive dumbness._

Not even a minute passes by before a short reply comes and Mingyu opens it to read, “ _Bitch. Get your ass here now. I won’t repeat myself_ ”.

And that’s how Mingyu finds himself sitting at _Costa’s_ , sipping his latté across from Joshua and listening to Jeonghan go on and on about Seungcheol’s ‘ _unfairly full and disrespectfully kissable lips_ ’.

“I swear, he wants me to _die_ ,” the older complains, shooting daggers at the barista manning the counter. “Just look at him standing there, just _look_. He has a vendetta against me, I just know it.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “You know, hyung,” he tells Joshua, who is sipping his own cup of coffee. “We always say we’d never let ourselves go through this torture but, for some reason, we always end up back where we said we never wanted to be.”

The corner of Joshua’s lips wryly tilts up as he says, “Well, I’m always _only_ here for the free coffee. I don’t know about you.”

Mingyu laughs and then nods, completely agreeing to the older’s sentiment. “Touché,” he says. “No one can resist free food, after all.”

“Or me,” Jeonghan quips, not paying any mind to the conversation he’s heard for the hundredth and thousandth time, as he is still, very obviously, in pursuit of Seungcheol’s attention, it’s a wonder he’s yet to bore holes on the other boy’s forehead. “So I really don’t understand why he’s just _standing_ there. Why is _he_ just standing there? I’m right here?”

Mingyu swears he could hear the presence of exaggerated question marks after Jeonghan’s dramatic monologue and he tries to stifle his laughter when Joshua tries to imitate his best friend.

“Well, hyung,” Mingyu finally says when he’s caught his breath. “Last time I checked, Seungcheol-hyung works as a barista in this café, not as a pornstar.”

Joshua almost spits his coffee and Jeonghan only seemingly smirks. “Wonwoo’s really rubbing off of you, isn’t he?”

And then it’s Mingyu’s turn to try not choke on his drink, all the while sending eye-daggers at Jeonghan who was mischievously returning his glare. “Why does it sound so wrong when you say it?”

Joshua thwacks Mingyu’s head. “Ya, Kim Mingyu! What are you thinking!?” he exclaims, making Jeonghan burst out in a fit of laughter which attracted quite a few number of curious, some unassuming, some not, customers.

Mingyu recoils and rubs the top of his head, gently. “Hyung,” he whines, pouting. “That hurt. And for the record, I wasn’t thinking about _anything_. Jeonghan-hyung is the one with all the ideas.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at him, teasingly. “I was just going to say that your wit is getting sharper. I said nothing about whatever you think I was talking about.”

Mingyu groans and is sure that to argue with Yoon Jeonghan is almost always a lost cause, so instead, he tries to shift the spotlight away from himself and says, “Well, at least that got you to shut up about Cheol-hyung. You broke your own record talking about him just now.”

Joshua’s eyes flit between his two companions and then begins nodding along, and Mingyu is grateful that his plan had worked. “Yeah, we’ve had coffee and then lunch and then coffee again, and you still haven’t stopped talking about him. Mingyu’s even contemplated texting Wonwoo to tell him he’d rather go with him and Soonyoung.”

Jeonghan frowns. “You _time_ me? What sort of friends?”

“Well, you couldn’t have expected we’d _actually_ be listening to you go on for hours and hours about Seungcheol,” Joshua says, poking his best friend’s arm which was splayed on the table, his grin teasing and plastered on his face like a permanent tattoo.

Mingyu doesn’t say anything because contrary to popular belief, he actually _does_ listen to Jeonghan talk about how ‘ _Seungcheol puts every man to shame_ ’ or how ‘ _Seungcheol’s probably too humble to be a model. He truly is a man after my own heart!_ ’. He’s often wondered if, given the chance to talk about his undeniable love for Wonwoo, he’d sound just as whipped as Jeonghan was.

Mingyu thinks, _probably and maybe even worse_ , but remembers that he can tell no one, even if it’s blatant enough for other people but the subject of his affection, to tell, and doesn’t know if that makes him lucky or not.

“Hyung,” he says, when Joshua and Jeonghan halts their bickering in favor of the latter’s eyes getting distracted by the sight of Seungcheol refilling the coffee bean sacks on the café counter, “why don’t you just approach Cheol-hyung? I could ask Wonwoo-hyung for you, if that makes it easier.”

Jeonghan sputters. “Bold of you to assume that I need Wonwoo to do my bidding,” he says when he’s recovered, and Mingyu could see Joshua smile from the corner of his eyes. “But why would you want to ruin this barista-customer entrope, huh, Kim Mingyu? It’s not romantic if I just tell him I like him, it’s _obvious_ that he does.”

Mingyu frowns. “But isn’t the whole point of being romantic is that so you could be romantic _together_? How is it romantic if you’re just pining for him?

Jeonghan’s teasing façade suddenly slips and his eyes, for a moment, seem to look at Mingyu sadly.

“What?” Mingyu looks at Joshua and found that the other has turned away so as not to make the conversation more uncomfortable. He then turns to look at Jeonghan who looks at him for only a couple more seconds and then resumes his preppy façade.

Mingyu thinks himself confused.

“Nothing,” Jeonghan answers, waving a flippant hand away. “Just that I’m deeply offended you’d ever think I’m going to be plain about when I confess to Cheol.”

Joshua tuts. “If he was _that_ easy, he’d have told Seungcheol he liked him since the day he met him. But he hasn’t and that’s Jeonghan for you.”

Mingyu, aware that the older hyungs seem to tiptoe around the sudden shift in atmosphere, decides he didn’t really want to deal with so much questions right now, and instead says, “Fat chance, he tells Cheol-hyung he’s been in love with him since then. He’d probably leave that part out.”

Jeonghan throws at him a piece of bread. “Hey! I’m older than you. Have some respect.” After which he tears a piece for himself before adding, “And besides, I have a reputation to uphold.”

Mingyu thinks he wishes he could have the luxury of being so sure that Wonwoo likes him too, the way Jeonghan was of Seungcheol. But you only get that sort of assurance when you’re as beautiful as Jeonghan and when the guy you like looks at you as more than just a younger brother he has to take care of or as a best friend and _only_ a best friend.

Jeonghan munches on the last few pieces of bread leftover on his plate before he gets up from his seat. “Come on,” he says, grabbing his belongings and beckoning for his other two friends to follow. “I think I have a plan and I’d be hitting two birds in one stone with this one.”

“What’s it?” Mingyu asks, but the older boy only marches out of the café, waving goodbye to the love of his life and all the other baristas working that particular shift, saying,

“See you later, Cheol!” 

The oldest smiles. “See you, Hannie! See you guys!”

And then they were gone and out the door, the little bell above the doorway tinkling to a close as Mingyu is left wondering what this plan could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as promised, here's the next chapter of sf! it still has all my initial excitement towards the prompt and finally writing this au so i hope you enjoy it as much as i did ♡ as always, tell me your thoughts and if you'd be okay with a week-long wait for updates (every wednesday)!


	3. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Painting and grocery shopping, just two of a long list of memories now tainted with the vision of Wonwoo which Mingyu has to pretend doesn't give him hope that maybe someday, one day, they could be together.

Whatever Jeonghan’s plan was, Mingyu has no idea what it is.

A few days has already passed and the older has yet to tell him all about it. Or Joshua, if he actually ends up not knowing what his best friend’s doing the way he insists he doesn’t, left in the dark as Mingyu was.

But Mingyu isn’t really bothered by this fact, as all unfortunate, pining, never-loved-by-their-crushes twenty-something-year-olds are. As usual, Jeon Wonwoo is at the forefront of Mingyu’s mind, alongside university, work, and their currently empty pantry.

Mingyu scratches his head as he remembers that he was supposed to have grocery shopped some two days ago and had not been able to due to his continuous shifts at work, covering for his sick workmate. He then decides that omelette will have to do for this fine, Saturday morning, and pulls out the necessary ingredients: egg, tomatoes and mushrooms.

He’s in the process of plating the food when he hears the door to Wonwoo’s room open and the padded footsteps of the older start to make their way into the kitchen, a yawn that Mingyu is too hyper aware of despite it being a silent ordeal, following suit.

“Morning,” Mingyu chirrups, dumping the pan he’d used to cook the omelette on the sink and delivering the platter to the kitchen counter. “I forgot to grocery shop the other day so this is the only thing we have. ‘M sorry.”

Wonwoo plants himself on a stool and shivers, pulling the sleeves of his sweater further down his arms. His eyes are still heavy with sleep and he looks like he just got out of bed, hair mussed and cheeks plump, and it occurred to Mingyu that he doesn’t remember the last time his brain had thought ‘beautiful’ and not associated the word with Jeon Wonwoo.

“G’morning,” the older mumbles, stifling another yawn. “We can go later today if you don’t have a shift at work.”

Mingyu’s ears turn a beet red. Not that he hasn’t gone grocery shopping with Wonwoo before, but he’s never really mastered the whole ‘hiding his love for his best friend’ kind of thing (that fact kind of surfaces on its own) that Mingyu still finds it difficult not to react to Jeon Wonwoo’s _anything_ despite having spent his entire twenty-one years on the planet with the guy. He coughs. “You’re not going out with Soonyoung?”

Wonwoo shakes his head as he takes a portion of the omelette Mingyu’s cooked on his plate. “Nope,” he confirms. “He has dance practice with Minghao. Apparently, they were asked to choreograph a dance video to this new song that’s just been released and had been working really hard for it these past weeks. They’re discussing minor changes and possible venues to film it.”

Mingyu nods as he goes over to bring Wonwoo a cup of coffee (his was already halfway through, having woken up quite a long time before the older). “Hm,” Mingyu hums. “I have work though but it’s just painting. If you don’t mind waiting, I could come collect you after work.”

Wonwoo looks at him weirdly as he tries to chew the food in his mouth. “Mingyu, if it’s just painting, I’ll just come with. It doesn’t often take long, right?”

Mingyu blushes. Maybe it’s partly because he’s never really thought Wonwoo was as attuned to his schedule as Mingyu was to his but maybe it also has to do with the fact that Jeon Wonwoo had invited to watch Mingyu _paint-_ -and teach a class of preschoolers how to paint, but that’s besides the point.

“Okay,” he eventually says, but because his conscience is bothering him and is unable to let him rest in peace, Mingyu adds, “You’ll get bored, though.”

Wonwoo smirks and looks at Mingyu over the rim of his coffee cup. “I’ll find ways to past the time,” he says, and though Mingyu is doubtful, he doesn’t argue.

And thus, that is how Wonwoo finds himself a thousand-‘Kim Mingyu with children’-pictures richer, some two hours later, to add to his already loaded collection of ‘Other’ Kim Mingyu pictures.

Mingyu pouts at him when he catches him again, camera poised and ready to take yet another photo. “ _Hyung,_ ” he whines, letting his arm fall from around Ahya who had been trying to paint roses, and then proceeds to approach the older. “I should’ve never taken you with me.”

Wonwoo laughs. “And why is that? I don’t regret coming, at all. I’m having the time of my life.”

There on Wonwoo’s face is his signature nose scrunch and the infamous wrinkle of his eyes, and Mingyu thinks he doesn’t, _at all_ , regret bringing the older to work but rather _feels_ that he was too beautiful and too distracting for Mingyu to pay attention to twenty little children while Wonwoo is acting like an even bigger baby right in front of him, that he bans the thought.

“You have _way_ too much time,” Mingyu says, putting his hands on his hips, thinking. He wonders what he could let the older possibly do so that he’d stop taking pictures of him.

A swift scan of his surroundings tells Mingyu, not much. Aside from his coworkers books stashed somewhere under his shared desk with Mingyu, all that’s really left are easels, empty canvases and paint brushes littered around. He could try giving Wonwoo the book but the environment would be far too noisy and loud for the older to try to even concentrate on its story so that was surely out of the question.

Mingyu bites his lip and thinks he could try to get Wonwoo to paint…

“Ya,” Wonwoo nudges him, snapping another picture of Mingyu spacing out. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

Mingyu rolls his eyes and takes the camera away from the older, only with a little trouble. “You taking horrid pictures of me,” he says, while turning to look at the shot Wonwoo’s just taken. He feels his ears turn red when he realizes that Wonwoo’s done a really good job at not making him look all that bad, and he quickly shuts off the camera to prevent himself from seeing more and turning red like a ready, ripe-for-picking, gourmet tomato.

Wonwoo smiles satisfactorily when he sees this and says, “Gyu, you look great. And besides, I’m taking the picture, so of course, it’ll come out well.”

Mingyu snorts. “Yeah? Tell that to your selfies.”

Wonwoo tries to swat at him but Mingyu’s already moving towards the front, swapping Wonwoo’s camera with a blank canvas and a tub filled with paint brushes of different widths, a palette, and some tubes of paint, that he misses.

“Here,” Mingyu holds the out set to Wonwoo, who only looks at him in confusion. He waits as the older cautiously eye the equipment being handed to him and sighs when Wonwoo still doesn’t move, deciding that he’ll set it up for him if the older was having trouble processing the scenario. “You should try to paint while you’re here, instead of taking pictures of me like paparazzi.”

Wonwoo then laughs. “You’re joking,” he says, completely convinced that Mingyu indeed _was_ . “Gyu, I can’t _draw_ to save my life. How am I supposed to _paint_?”

Mingyu looks back at the twenty children trying to grapple their way around painting an apple or a rose as Mingyu had earlier taught them and smirks. “Like them.”

And that is how Mingyu ends up with a wobbled, distorted, lopsided version of himself in his painter’s overalls on a used-to-be-blank canvas with Wonwoo’s signature grazing the bottom-right corner, his heart fuller than when he’d started the day. No one has tried to draw Mingyu before, much more, _paint_ him, and the fact that though Wonwoo could have opted to try painting simpler things, he’d chosen _Mingyu_ specifically, is enough for Mingyu to think he’ll never get out of this rabbit hole Jeon Wonwoo has dug him in.

Mingyu hadn’t even expected to enjoy his Saturday as much as he had and is beyond surprised that he had a lot of _memorabilias_ to remember it by, that he figures he’ll be thinking about today for _days._ And then there’s the fact that that meant more ways to get distracted by a certain Jeon Wonwoo and an even longer way to fall, but Mingyu thinks that’s okay. He is happy now and if he’s ever learned anything about being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way, it’s that you enjoy every minute you have with them because it’s probably the only minutes you’ll ever get.

Mingyu sighs, contentedly, as he stashed Wonwoo’s drawing in the back of his car and walks around to the front where Wonwoo is already waiting, strapped onto the passenger’s seat, a matching smile on his face.

“I had fun,” the older says, when Mingyu’s buckled up and pulling the vehicle out of the art gallery’s parking lot.

There was a glow about him that Mingyu feels too undeserving to be basking in and he thinks Wonwoo shouldn’t really be distracting him like this if he wants them both to arrive to the supermarket, safely, so, “I’m glad,” is what he says instead.

“I didn’t know you had such a fun job,” Wonwoo comments. “I mean, I love books and all, but that was… that was really something else.”

Mingyu laughs. “It’s the kids. They make teaching painting fun. When I’m curating and it’s just walking and talking all day, I almost always want to bang my head against a wall.”

Wonwoo hums. “Hm, unfortunate for you, probably, but definitely lucky for your audience.”

Mingyu steals a glance at him. “What do you mean?”

Wonwoo leans his head on the cold window pane and says, “Because your voice actually sounds nice and it’s pleasant to hear.” He turns and meets the younger’s eyes for a brief moment before he smirks. “When you’re not talking nonsense, that is.”

Mingyu is a jumble of emotions after that and doesn’t reply or even try to initiate conversation to fill the comfortable silence that’s settled around the two of them during the rest of their journey, lest he gets too into his thoughts he forget he’s driving. It wasn’t thar Wonwoo hasn’t complimented him before or that Wonwoo was very stingy with compliments; it was simply how he says it, nonchalant and casual like he’s simply stating a fact and thinks that Mingyu should know it, that makes the younger boy’s heart rage. Set aside the presence of Wonwoo’s snide remarks at the end, Mingyu feels that the older almost always seems to… _mean_ it.

Without anymore comments about how Mingyu’s voice sounds ‘ _pleasant_ ’, they reach the supermarket in record time and are entering the building with a cart in hand, huddled around a list Mingyu’s prepared that morning.

“So we have to get meat--beef and pork and chicken--for when we cook dinner; fruits, I think grapes and tangerines are my favorite this week; mhm, vegetables, though I’m not really sure which ones but probably potatoes and lettuce so we can make wraps; kimchi, cereal, milk, some chips… and,” Mingyu halts his monologue when he stumbles upon something scrawled on the bottom in Wonwoo’s tiny handwriting. He squints his eyes, brings the paper closer to his face so that he can see, and reads _jelly drink and ramyeon for Wonwoo_. It produces a laugh out of him.

“What?” Wonwoo looks confused as he glances at a laughing Mingyu but he unfailingly pushes the cart ahead of him so that he’s still in-step with his best friend who didn’t stop walking. “Why’re you laughing?”

Mingyu smiles and shakes his head. “It’s just that, you put ‘ _jelly drink and ramyeon for Wonwoo_ ’ right here, and it’s cute,” he says and sees the older blush a little.

“You forgot,” Wonwoo says, shrugging. “You didn’t add it to your list, so you know, I just wanted to remind you.”

Mingyu doesn’t tell Wonwoo that he doesn’t need to. He’s written everything else because his poor brain wouldn’t be able to manage remembering even a short list of household materials to buy when it’s crammed with a gazillion of memories he has with Wonwoo that’s already stashed in there. He hadn’t written Wonwoo’s snacks because those were the ones he’s already memorized by heart and were actually the reason Mingyu couldn’t put anything else inside that brain of his.

Mingyu chooses to say nothing and proceeds to drag Wonwoo towards the meat section, hoping that the older doesn’t notice his lack of response. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t seem all too bothered by this and simply follows Mingyu’s directions.

“Hm,” the younger says, thoughtfully, looking at the array of meat before them. “Mom just texted me a new recipe for this beef stew she made, do you want to try it?”

Wonwoo’s stomach growls in response and Mingyu’s mouth takes the form of an ‘O’ shape before anything else. The older blushes. “You should probably take that as a yes?”

Mingyu chuckles and ushers the older some meats away to get the specific part he needed to cook beef stew. Along the way, he picks out more beef and pork and chicken and tells Wonwoo, who had no knowledge, whatsoever, about anything that’s not cooked and raw, how to tell if meat is fresh and what best parts to pick for certain dishes.

Wonwoo informs Mingyu that he’s only interested with the kind he can grill (because he’s really hopeless in the kitchen and that’s about the only decent cooking he could do--but of course, Wonwoo doesn’t admit that) and with a roll of his eyes, Mingyu pushes the older to the direction of the meat in thinner slices.

They continue on like that until Wonwoo, excited to refill his stash of ramyeon, races Mingyu towards the packed-noodle section and begins filling their cart with heaps and heaps of ramyeon. Truly, it would take a lot to fill that one cupboard Wonwoo had called dibs on to fill with his ramyeon cravings, which, when he first became aware of it, Mingyu had thought odd and extremely unhealthy.

The younger voices the same thoughts about it, now. “You know, hyung,” he says, gently. “This amount of ramyeon really is not good for you. You’re practically one-half jelly drink and one-half ramyeon, it’s not a proper diet.”

Wonwoo snorts. “That’s why I have you,” he says while still pushing some hundred packs onto their cart. “You make me eat healthy and it takes _years_ to finish my stash. You think if I ever get married, they’ll allow me to still live with you?”

Mingyu knows that Wonwoo is rambling and trying to distract him from the fact that he has such an unhealthy obsession for ramyeon but the words _you_ and _married_ and _live_ makes Mingyu’s spine turn rigid. He doesn’t really want to acknowledge the reason why there suddenly feels like bile rising up to his throat.

“I think,” Mingyu is struggling to get the words out and rather than hoping that his voice sounds normal, only wishes that Wonwoo is blind enough about Mingyu’s feelings to recognize the shake and unordinarily gruff pitch his voice has undertaken. He tries again. “I think, if you ever get married, you should choose someone who can take care of your skinny ass and stop you from buying disgraciously huge amounts of ramyeon to save yourself from ruining your own health. And I also think,” he takes the older by the shoulders, exhales, and pushes him away from the shelf, “that’s _enough_ ramyeon to last a whole lifetime.”

Wonwoo disagrees but doesn’t argue and Mingyu thinks that, at least, the older is making it easier for him, even just for a little bit.

He pushes the cart to the self-checkout and makes Wonwoo unload all the ramyeon that he’s stuffed inside their cart before helping him unload the rest, the older chuckling and feeling a little embarrassed that Mingyu’s punishing him for buying too much ramyeon and also for buying _too much_ ramyeon.

Mingyu doesn’t notice though because his mind is still reeling and his heart is back to aching and he’s wondering if Soonyoung, should he be Wonwoo’s soulmate, will be the one to take Wonwoo out to art galleries and painting lessons and grocery shopping without ever worrying about someone else loving the boy that he loves or not being loved by the boy that he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to anyone who's still reading this, thank you so much! i didn't expect to grow attached to this fic but i always find myself going back to it even though i have like 568945738472830238023 other prompts coming in like a bullet train. hoping that this'll be the first fic i finish ♡ as usual, tell me your thoughts!


	4. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim Mingyu is in desperate need of a distraction that's not Jeon Wonwoo.

The problem with Mingyu being in love with Wonwoo is that he’s _in love_ with Wonwoo.

Because of this, Mingyu couldn’t avoid the older for much longer than a day as there’s always something Wonwoo is doing to make Mingyu’s heart fuller or cause him to fall impossibly deeper in love with the other.

Sometimes, Mingyu thinks, it gets impossible to remember that loving Wonwoo like this also means pain upon himself. But alas, that’s nothing new as Mingyu has never really been smart, or at least, ever thought to use his brain when it comes to matters regarding his best friend, and so he thinks that he really shouldn’t be surprised that, like every other time Mingyu could wrack his brains to remember--which is basically _all_ of _forever_ \--he simply feels helpless, unable to do anything about wanting to avoid Wonwoo without making it seem too obvious that he _was_ , in fact, trying to avoid him.

Luckily, Mingyu has to think no further because Jeonghan, as always, is upon his rescue, inviting him out to go shopping with him as Joshua is held back at work. Never mind that Mingyu is obviously not the boy’s first choice, he’s simply grateful for the offer and to have been able to take any and all kinds of distraction that will hopefully keep him away from Wonwoo for just a little while longer as he doesn’t seem to be any good at doing the avoiding when by himself.

Mingyu needs this, after all: space from his best friend whom he loves so much and probably even a little _too_ much. Because even though Mingyu is okay, really, he feels it’s only because he’s suppressing his feelings around Wonwoo, and is not actually, truly _over_ what happened Saturday afternoon.

Receiving Jeonghan’s message worked something like an angel in disguise and he had responded with an enthusiastic affirmative which gets a reply some two minutes later saying he’ll be picked up after his classes in university, that same afternoon. Mingyu sighs and thinks that he’s never really been patient, realizes it’s an absolute torture waiting and that he’s just so honestly desperate to _stop thinking about Wonwoo for one goddamn minute_ that he’s literally stopped paying attention to Mr. Lee talking about line art and pressure and creating the perfect illusion, in favor of counting down the hours, minutes, _seconds_ until Jeonghan’s arrival.

When the clock strikes two-thirty and his eyes alight on the older’s black sedan in the university’s parking lot, sleek and stark and completely out of place in such an overpopulated area, Mingyu is practically pissing his pants with excitement that the older seems to be caught off-guard for one moment.

Jeonghan raises a brow at Mingyu when he sidles on the passenger seat and buckles his seatbelt, pulling effortlessly out of the driveway while maintaining a suspicious eye on the younger. Mingyu was a big puppy on a good day, like a German Shepherd or a Golden Retriever; on days like this one, he’s a Clifford. “You don’t often say yes to going out on weekdays,” he notes. “What’s up?”

Mingyu, who had been jiggling his legs up and down, too hyper to stay still, suddenly stops. He thinks that he should have known that nothing slips past Jeonghan and that he’s not going to get away with agreeing to come with the older, shopping and in the middle of a school week, no less, unscathed. But it’s Mingyu and he’s always hoping and he thinks that today can be the day he doesn’t tell Jeonghan anything because, in the first place, his goal was to _forget_ the reason he even needs to forget in the first place.

Mingyu clears his throat and mumbles, “I don’t want to talk about it,” before burrowing himself further in on the seat.

Jeonghan only glances at him through the rearview mirror. “That’s okay,” he says, recognizing the not-so subtle way Mingyu folds in on himself when he’s trying to block attacks as though in harm’s way. He wasn’t friends with the boy for three years (and counting) just to miss the telltale signs of Mingyu hurting. “We can just go do our thing and get some ice cream, later. My treat. Sounds good?”

Mingyu nods and chews on his bottom lip, feeling guilty and grateful at the same time. Though he’s never openly talked about his feelings for Wonwoo, it wasn’t a secret that he liked the boy, and he knew that Jeonghan could tell that he was still very much in love with the older despite never even having to confirm that he did in the first place. It gives Mingyu a sense of relief that Jeonghan isn’t forcing him to talk about it, but, it also makes him wonder if it would really be _that_ bad to actually manage to talk to someone who could probably understand exactly what he was going through. After all, looking at Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s relationship, Mingyu’s thing with Wonwoo wasn’t all that different, right?

Save from the fact that while Seungcheol probably--no, _definitely_ \--likes Jeonghan back, Wonwoo can’t even look at Mingyu past ‘best friends’, at all.

Mingyu stares at Jeonghan’s side profile and debates with himself whether or not he should bring up what had happened with him and Wonwoo during the weekend. See, the way Mingyu’s feeling right now had nothing to do with the fact that Mingyu knows Wonwoo could never be his. That was already a given and he was sure that if he was _that_ weak, he’d cry over Wonwoo everyday he’d be malfunctioning.

But as it is, it had been Wonwoo, noticing that Mingyu’s out of it ever since his jeer at the supermarket, stuck to Mingyu’s side like a leech for the better half of Saturday and the whole of Sunday, that’s got Mingyu so wrecked over. His façade was slipping and Wonwoo isn’t really helping with all of the mushy, cuddly shit that Mingyu should really be used to by now but isn’t.

Because contrary to popular belief, while it was true that Wonwoo is a Rosetta Stone, hard and cold on the exterior, difficult to break, and very often to _everyone_ , that isn’t who he is with Kim Mingyu, at all. That’s partly why the younger hasn’t been right ever since--always feeling like he’s special but, seemingly, not quite special enough.

Before Mingyu could bite back what he’s gonna say, he finds himself turning to Jeonghan and blurting out, “Hyung.”

The older only spares him a soft smile playing before turning his attention back towards the road. Mingyu is almost sure that the smile had been for his sake and not at all because there was any reason to smile about--not counting the fact that Jeonghan had probably expected him to talk and was revelling at his _rightness_. “Hm?” the older hums in acknowledgement.

“Suppose… suppose you’ve been in love with somebody for so long and you’re not really sure why that is or how it came to be, only that you really don’t want to feel that way anymore.

“You think that the only reason you even feel this way is because of how they treat you and make you feel _loved_ in ways that feel different from everyone else. But, it doesn’t feel platonic the way you know it’s supposed to be and the way you know he obviously feels so you want to back away.

“You’re thinking about distancing yourself because that seems easier _but_ you think about leaving them and the thought only seems to hurt more than the idea of not being _loved_. You think about parting with them and you get this big gaping hole inside of your chest feeling hollowed out like you lost a vital part of you and you think there’s no way you can leave them.

“But if you don’t, they’ll act like they love you, and they probably do but obviously not in the way you want them to, and you’d spend your everyday with them trying not to fall but it just gets increasingly difficult each time and suddenly, _stopping_ doesn’t seem like an option anymore; like you’ve lost sight of what it means.”

Mingyu’s throat clogs up half-way through his monologue and he has to stop a couple of times just to breathe and calm himself but his voice, though sounding foreign around the words he’s never dared speak out loud, felt sure and confident, and Mingyu’s not quite sure why or how the truth just seems to seep off of him so easily, bringing pain that he’s tried so hard to suppress but couldn’t.

In the end, Mingyu struggles to phrase the point of his monologue and the question he was dying to know the answer to, and gets beaten by Jeonghan who has quite a few questions himself and was adamant on asking them now.

“So, we’ll pretend it’s Wonwoo, mhm? To give some context?” the older asks.

Mingyu doesn’t know why _that’s_ important considering he’s just explained the whole situation, but, so as not to give anything he away he nods and wills his cheeks not to color, praying he don’t sound suspicious like he hadn’t just outed himself. “Yes. Hypothetically.”

“And you’re wondering what to do to make all these feelings go away because you think he won’t reciprocate it?”

“ _Doesn’t_ ,” Mingyu corrects. “Because he _doesn’t_ reciprocate it.”

Jeonghan hums but doesn’t say anything, and it starts to bother Mingyu how poor his decisions have been lately. He starts to wonder whether this might just end up like all his priorly mentioned poor decisions, and how he’s really _not_ in the right mindset to be dealing with its aftermath _if_ everything does end up coming down to shit.

He’s all too vulnerable right now, mentally reaching his breaking point and not at all prepared for the statement Jeonghan finally throws at him.

“Seems like all you’re doing is running away,” the older says.

And Mingyu doesn’t know how to process this as his brain is working slower than the speed of a buffering, loading screen in some Third World country he’d rather not name, that by the time he does, Jeonghan is already throwing another question into his queue.

The older only asks him one thing and Mingyu thinks that he’s tired of getting questions to add to his already growing pile, no closer to answering this one as he is the others: “What makes you think leaving will stop yourself from falling?”

This time, Mingyu groans, already fully aware of the implications of the older’s words.

“You might think you only feel that way because of how he’s treating you but we both know you love him regardless of how he is towards you,” Jeonghan says, glancing at Mingyu through the rearview mirror and smiling when their eyes meet. “Hypothetically, of course.”

“So what do I do, then?” Mingyu asks, not liking how even Jeonghan thinks he's cornered and has nowhere left to go.

“Well, someone once told me that you can’t truly get over someone you love if you love them as much as you say you do,” the older says, not taking his eyes off the road. Mingyu notices his smile and sees something different about it, like Jeonghan is reminiscing a ghost of a memory from a distant past. “They stay with you until you find someone else and maybe _even_ when you find someone else. Closure is something you fool yourself into believing possible and only by riding your feelings out can you achieve some sort of ‘finish’ as that love eventually fades into nothing but a small pang in your chest like a faint but constant reminder.”

Mingyu doesn’t know the exact time his shoulders had hunched in on themselves, but they did, and he isn’t really sure if he wants to hear more. Mingyu thinks that everything just sounds so sad and impossible, like there’s no happy ending left for him whatsoever, and he’s not really interested about what he _can’t_ do. He _knows_ . “That’s not going to help me, hyung. I can’t _not_ love him at such a close proximity and _that’s_ the point. It’s already a struggle just convincing myself everyday.”

Jeonghan laughs. “And what kind of moving on would that be if you only know how _not_ to love him when you _aren’t_ with him, Kim Mingyu? That’s like asking two completely random strangers from two different parts of the world if they’re in love with each other.” Jeonghan chances another glance at Mingyu and meets his eyes again, noting the younger’s expression whose face only seems to contort into further horror at _everything_ he was saying. “I don’t know what you think love is about, Gyu, but it definitely has nothing to do with distance. It’s the same way that, _préavis_ or not, we don’t stop loving the people we love just because the world tells us it’s wrong.”

Mingyu thinks he’s gonna get a headache, thinks that he really _shouldn’t_ have asked, but curiousity killed the cat and now he’s just wondering why he’s not dead yet.

As some form of damage control, Mingyu decides to clear his throat and force out a chuckle, praying to the gods (if they exist) that Jeonghan will just leave it be, now that he’s ‘opened’ up about it. “Good thing, I’m not in love with Wonwoo, eh?”

The older is smiling, and it’s back to that one kind that Mingyu sometimes confuse between empathic and sinister.

He looks like he wants to say something but eventually decides against it, and only says, “Yeah. Good thing,” before driving them in silence and to the mall.

When they arrive, Jeonghan’s done giving Mingyu the space he needs and is back to dragging the younger like a child, this time to a shop with party decorations and supplements, all wild and excited.

Mingyu feels utterly confused. “Hyung,” he says. “I thought you were going shopping. Why are we looking for party supplies?”

Jeonghan, who was in the middle of browsing through streamers and other party garlands, says, in his most casual voice that it scared Mingyu how oddly serious he was, “This _is_ shopping. We’re throwing a party for my son.”

“Your what?”

“Oh, I forgot--” Jeonghan starts, and then stops when his eyes alight on shimmering silver and black banderitas. He holds them up for Mingyu to judge. “What do you think? Too dark?”

Mingyu frowns. “I guess? I don’t even know who it’s for. You have a _son_?”

Jeonghan grins and says, “Perfect!”, stuffing the banderitas inside the basket Mingyu is holding, and then strutting his way down to where the balloons were. “Well, he’s not really my _son_. Gosh, I’m too young to be a father, Mingyu. I don’t even have my life together yet. Lee Chan is my adopted son.”

Mingyu still doesn’t get it. “Uh-huh. And where did your adopted son _come from_?”

Jeonghan snorts. “What do you mean where did he come from? In his mother’s womb? Korea? He’s an Iksan native, you know.”

Mingyu didn’t, but upon hearing that, he simply rolls his eyes, knowing full well that the older is just playing with him now. He then decides to play along. “So you didn’t impregnate someone, right? You said it yourself, you’re too young to be a father. I don’t think you’re ready for that kind of commitment, hyung.”

Jeonghan flicks Mingyu’s forehead which induces a yelp from the other. “Ya, I’m one hundred percent gay! What are you talking about? Weren’t you the one telling me I talk about Seungcheol too much?”

Mingyu chuckles, rubbing the spot where the older flicked him with the hand that isn’t holding the basket filled with Jeonghan’s knick knacks. “That you do, hyung, but I was just joking,” he explains. “Gosh, you knew I was too so you didn’t have to flick me _that_ hard.”

Jeonghan stuck his tongue out at him. “My sexuality was offended. I simply did what had to be done,” he says and then turns back around to inspect the numerous amount of birthday balloons the store has on display.

Mingyu sidles up beside him and begins pulling out the ones he thinks look most interesting. “Will you ever tell me who Lee Chan actually _is_ , though? He can’t _really_ be your son, can he? Adopted or not?”

Jeonghan waves a hand away. “You’ll meet him when you help me set-up the party I’m hosting this Saturday night. Your questions should be answered by then,” the older says, smiling.

“But I _didn’t_ agree to go to a party this Saturday night?”

Jeonghan laughs and pats the younger’s arm as though he thought he was kidding. “Sure you didn’t,” he says and drops the pack of balloons he’s holding inside Mingyu’s basket: a mixture of black, all-too-gothic-to-be-used-as-a-party-decoration inflatable with silver bits that Mingyu wasn’t sure were numbers or designs. “You even promised to buy the drinks, Gyu, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

Mingyu looks blank, thoughts about Lee Chan’s mysterious identity forgotten. He’s eighty percent sure he’s never agreed to throwing a party, much more, for someone he didn’t know. But the remaining twenty percent of him kept reminding him that he couldn’t even properly remember anything that wasn’t Wonwoo-related so that he isn’t really a pretty reliable source. “I did?”

“Yup,” Jeonghan says, popping the ‘p’. “You can invite Wonwoo if you want, and have him drag Cheol, as well.”

The older doesn’t even look up when he says this and Mingyu’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t really agree to anything, did I? You just want to see Cheol-hyung shitfaced.”

Jeonghan looks up from whatever he’s fiddling with and simply says, “Yup,” for a second time that Mingyu finds himself rolling his eyes.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Jeonghan snickers. “I like the term _strategic_ better.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's another update for all of you still reading this au! again, thank you so much if you're still here and i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last one (altho it didn't have as much meanie as expected) hehe... it's all necessary to build up the grand scheme of things ♡ anyway, as always, tell me what you think!


	5. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeon Wonwoo is colder than the arctic, and Kim Mingyu is freezing and just wants some lovin'.

Mingyu wishes he had Jeonghan’s wit, charm and brain. Not only would it be incredibly useful attributes but it would also help Mingyu make Wonwoo not give him the cold shoulder.

_Oh, how the tables have turned._

Mingyu, who had completely forgotten about his troubles with Wonwoo the day he had gone out with Jeonghan shopping, seemed to have also forgotten that he hadn’t told the older where he’d be and had missed all of Wonwoo’s twelve missed calls and twenty-one messages.

The boy had been dead worried about him. Or so his messages said, asking where he was and cursing at his forgetfulness of never turning his volume up after classes.

Mingyu, upon seeing this, had called him up immediately to apologize, only to get buzzing static in Wonwoo’s end, indicating that the older was listening but was very hurt, indeed.

When Mingyu had arrived home, there was cold food served on the dining table and an even colder Wonwoo awaiting him in the living room, playing Mario Kart. Over the phone, Mingyu had mentioned he’d gone out with Jeonghan and that’s when, without even waiting for an explanation, the younger had received the older’s dial tone instead. It was clear that Wonwoo was trying to make it seem like Mingyu had simply interrupted him in between a game and hung up on him as though he was a ‘disturbance’. But Mingyu knew him all too well to miss the way Wonwoo was chewing on his cheeks trying to refrain himself from saying anything.

The younger had went to heat the food and had waited for Wonwoo to finish playing his game; but when he did, the older dashed straight to his room and locked the door never to be seen until the morning when he ducked out of Mingyu’s way too.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Mingyu whined. “You’re being unreasonable.”

But Wonwoo only pretended that he didn’t hear and had locked himself inside his room once again.

Mingyu, never-patient-always-jittering Mingyu,  who had had enough, went to it and began his incessant banging on the older’s door. “You have to talk to me or I’ll break this door down and we both know I break things plenty enough to be able to do so with just my hands.”

Silence.

“Open up,” Mingyu continued. “Please?”

But Wonwoo still didn’t open the door.

“Hyung,” Mingyu huffs, pleading. “I have class in an hour and I really want to have a great day. Can we please not fight over last night? Or at least just talk about it so I know what made you upset?”

Nothing.

It was with a heavy heart that Mingyu left their apartment without seeing his best friend, whose classes started about an hour later than his. In his frustration, Mingyu had texted Jeonghan, Joshua _and_ Minghao about his predicament and had wailed, as how text wailing could be described, like a child, to the others, damning Wonwoo to hell and back and wondering why he worries so much about being ignored by the other.

Jeonghan had responded with: “ _Maybe you’re not_ just _hypothetically in love with him_ ”, and had Mingyu slapping his forehead in embarrassment, convinced that this was a conversation that should well be abandoned.

Then he had received Minghao’s, “ _Suck it up. The man_ doesn’t _cook and still went to all that trouble for you, of course he’d be mad_ ” message, which, to be fair, Mingyu thought had the potential to be helpful except for the fact that it definitely wasn’t.

And then finally, Joshua’s message, which read, “ _Give him time, Gyu. He’s probably just being his dramatic self_ ”, which Mingyu should concede was, at least, decent advice.

Obviously, even after everything else, nothing lived up to what Mingyu considered as _actual_ help and he had spent three days skirting around Wonwoo who would not stop giving him the cold shoulder.

Mingyu thinks again now, how convenient it would have been, to be as strategic as Jeonghan. His best friend would probably be talking to him by now if only he’d known the right things to say and do, turning Wonwoo putty in his hands. Then again, if he’d been as witty and charming, he could probably do more than just make Wonwoo forgive him, but that was definitely stretching his imagination too far.

Mingyu pouts. It’s Saturday and Wonwoo still isn’t talking to him even though he’s gone to every length and measure to initiate any form of interaction with the older and apologize to him. No greetings, no smiles, not even glances or pauses which could’ve at least told Mingyu that the older was _considering_ talking to him. There was no sign that Wonwoo even _wants_ to forgive Mingyu and it was upsetting him.

The door to Wonwoo’s room opens and Wonwoo musn’t have expected Mingyu to be standing right outside his doorway because he would’ve almost bumped into him if he hadn’t stopped himself on time.

The older doesn’t say anything, only narrows his eyes at Mingyu who isn’t anything to him, at that moment, but a gigantic blockade that he couldn’t seem to pass.

Mingyu bites his bottom lip and focuses his eyes on the floor. There’s something about the way Wonwoo is looking at him that makes him unable to meet the older’s eyes. “You’re going to Jeonghan-hyung’s party, right?” Mingyu asks.

He waits, and again, nothing.

“I know you don’t want to go with me,” Mingyu continues, playing with the hem of his shirt. “So really, you don’t have to. But you could invite Seungcheol-hyung. Or even Soonyoung. Maybe both. Just to have fun. You might not even see me later, so really, it’d be a great night for you.”

Just silence.

Mingyu sighs and eventually looks up. Wonwoo is still staring. “It’s been three days, hyung. Will you really not talk to me because I forgot to turn my volume up and miss twelve missed calls and twenty-one messages? And before you even ask, yes, I counted and read them all too because I was _sorry_.”

Wonwoo is chewing his cheeks, and Mingyu just wants to walk away, scream at him for holding himself back and never really telling Mingyu what the problem is, just downright _leave_ , for goodness sake; _but_ , Mingyu admits, he’s Mingyu. And he loves Wonwoo so much that anything other than begging for Wonwoo’s forgiveness isn’t even an option. So he stays.

Fortunately, Wonwoo eventually talks.

“I’m not mad at you, Gyu,” Wonwoo says. “I’m hurt. First you avoid me like the plague, next you _forget_ to tell me where you’re going. And maybe I should’ve gotten the hint that you wanted me to leave you alone, but, you didn’t even tell me what I did wrong.”

 _Oh,_ Mingyu thinks. _So he isn’t as_ dense _as I thought_.

He wracks his brain for an excuse that wouldn’t belie that he’s never really been a particularly good liar and hopes that Wonwoo buys it. “It’s just, I remembered I had a project to work on and hadn’t started, and you were hogging my attention all weekend that it became distracting, I’m sorry.”

The project isn’t exactly a lie. He’s been working on project “Resist Wonwoo” ever since before he was born and he hadn’t been doing a very good job of it so far; no progress from where he’s last been, whatsoever.

Wonwoo frowns. “Then why didn’t you just say so?”

“‘Cause I liked it,” Mingyu shrugs. He figures honesty is the way to go. “It’s been awhile since I got to spend time with you like that, hyung. I know we see each other everyday but it was different and I didn’t want it to end. But with the project and you clinging onto me, you know how I can never say no.”

Mingyu didn’t have to add _to you_. That was a sure given and it’s clear that Wonwoo understands. His frown disappears and a small smile forms on his lips. “Always such a big baby,” he says, making a grab for Mingyu’s cheeks.

The younger pouts. “So does that mean I’m forgiven? Will you go to the party, now?”

Wonwoo laughs and ruffles Mingyu’s hair, not done with teasing his best friend. “Sure,” he says. “But I’m only doing it for Jeonghan-hyung and the fun time _someone_ promised me, I’ll have.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu replies, rolling his eyes and swatting at Wonwoo’s hand which was mussing his hair. “Bring Cheol-hyung with you so I don’t have to be _entirely_ responsible for your enjoyment, why don’t you?”

And that is how Mingyu finds himself immediately separated from Wonwoo and Seungcheol the moment he set foot in Jeonghan’s apartment which was crowded with a small bunch of people that has Mingyu losing his grip on his best friend only to be dragged by someone else. There were faces he recognized from fleeting meetings in the past but some were completely unfamiliar--probably Lee Chan’s friends or maybe, even, Lee Chan, himself. Jeonghan already has him slaving though so there really is no time for him to process all this until the party is in full swing and Kim Mingyu finally has a face to place alongside Lee Chan’s name.

“Mingyu,” Jeonghan says, knocking the younger out of his stupor. “This is Lee Chan, my son.”

Chan grimaces but extends his hand out to shake Mingyu’s already outstretched ones. “Don’t listen to Jeonghannie-hyung,” he says. “I’m not really his son.”

Mingyu smiles and thinks that he’d have also treated Chan as his own if Jeonghan hadn’t already. The boy looked too precious not to be babied and he isn’t saying that because he practically thinks _everyone_ should be.

“That’s right,” Jeonghan agrees, clapping his hands on the youngest’s shoulder. “You’re my _baby_ . Now go and enjoy _your_ party while I hog Mingyu’s attention for a little bit.”

Chan rolls his eyes but does what he’s told. “It was nice meeting you, Mingyu-hyung,” he says, flashing Mingyu his pearly whites. “Thanks for helping Jeonghan-hyung with my party.”

Mingyu waves, and soon, the younger is out of his sight and swallowed by the swarm of people dancing and mingling in Jeonghan’s living room.

Jeonghan immediately latches onto him. “So you got him to come,” the older says, steering Mingyu towards the staircase which, for some reason, he thought functions better as a stool than his Ikea couch some ten feet away.

“Uh, yeah,” Mingyu answers, not really sure who they were talking about. “Wait, who are we talking about and why are we on the staircase?”

He realizes the answer as soon as he had asked the question: from where they were, Mingyu and Jeonghan has the perfect birds-eye view of the makeshift mosh pit in the living room, where in the corner, Seungcheol and Wonwoo stands, conversing. As always, Mingyu’s breath feels like they’re caught in his throat.

“So,” Jeonghan continues, smirking when Mingyu finally manages to get a hint as to what what he’s trying to do. “You got Wonwoo to come.”

Mingyu hums, his eyes still trained on his best friend like a hawk watching his prey. Except, Wonwoo isn’t the prey. He is the hawk and he has Mingyu pinned right where he probably doesn’t even want him to be, and the younger just thinks it’s sad. He must’ve looked really pathetic to be in love with Wonwoo. He shakes his head and answers the older’s question, “Well, yeah. After three days. He completely ignored me when I got home last Wednesday.”

Jeonghan hums and follows his line of sight, but obviously, for his own self-serving purpose. Seungcheol is looking like a meal tonight and he isn’t really one to hold himself back when opportunities to feast on the man presents themselves to him like this. However, he hoards his thoughts and centers them around Mingyu to ask, “What did you do?”

Mingyu thinks back to his conversation with the older just this morning and smiles sheepishly, a blush coating his tanned skin, making him look smaller than he already is. “I was honest with him.”

Jeonghan’s head snaps to turn towards the younger with a perfectly arched eyebrow, raised. “So you followed my advice, then? Told him you aren’t just hypothetically in love with him?”

“Hyung, _what_ ? Of course, not. That isn’t the case. _At all_.” Mingyu’s rosy cheeks has begun to take on a shade darker and he seems almost ready to disappear to wherever Jeonghan can’t hold what he’d said about Wonwoo some days ago, over his head like a fucking cloud.

Weirdly enough, though, the older doesn’t seem all that interested in teasing him about his crush and only resumes his _boy-watching_ as though he’s trying to engrave Seungcheol’s physique--body line, muscle, crevice, and all--into his brain like a madman thirsty for water. Mingyu thinks that’s probably how he looks at Wonwoo too, when he thinks nobody is looking.

“I’d have thought, that was the case,” Jeonghan absentmindedly says, taking on a swig of whatever he was holding. “But I’m glad it isn’t because that would have put a damper on things.”

Mingyu frowns, assuming his earlier position and letting his eyes wander around the living room area so as to not make it so obvious that the only person he’d really rather be looking at is Jeon Wonwoo. “What do you mean ‘ _put a damper on things_ ’? What things?”

Jeonghan holds up a finger. “Hush,” he mutters. “Shua will join us in a minute and I’ll tell you then. I’m not about to waste precious saliva that I could be using to curse Seungcheol and his slicked back hair. Did you know that he’d do that?”

Mingyu only smiles. “No,” he says. “But he probably did that to impress you.”

Jeonghan snorts. “You’ll have to do better than that to get me to tell you, Kim Mingyu. My love won’t be so obvious about his attraction towards me. It’s unbecoming.”

Mingyu laughs and thinks that he wasn’t really trying. He just simply guessed what might’ve been the case and spoke it out loud, knowing full well it would feed Jeonghan’s ego. “You know, hyung, I should probably tell you how envious I am of you.”

Jeonghan takes another swig before posing his question. “And why’s that? I mean, everyone’s jealous of me but, really, Gyu, you don’t seem like the type who _needs_ to be jealous about anything.”

Mingyu feels flattered but shakes his head, unbelieving. There were plenty of things he was insecure of and no amount of assurance will probably rid him of that. “Well, you’re always so confident, so sure of yourself, like there’s nothing people can say about you that can make you think otherwise and I just wish I could be more like that. That I didn’t have to doubt myself all the time and just be able to say what I mean, like you.”

Jeonghan laughs and Mingyu doesn’t quite get it but thinks he’s about to in just a minute. “Oh, Gyu, I’m glad you think that’s a good thing but I don’t really prize that attribute, myself. I lie more than you think I do. It’s the only way to convince myself I could be what I want to be.”

Mingyu frowns; more because he couldn’t really imagine his hyung being anything like the person he was--cunning and beautiful and confident. “But… you’re so… _direct_. You have all the men falling on their feet for you and dismiss them like it’s nothing because you know what you want and what you--”

“Need?” Jeonghan continues for him, smiling. “You’d be surprised by how much lying I tell myself, I live it into existence. I don’t have these bunch of lines for nothing, Gyu. I’m really not someone to be jealous about.”

Mingyu catches a glimpse of Jeonghan’s _préavis_ when the latter downs his drink and sees just the tips of the six lines marring the older’s wrist. He startles, when Joshua sidles up beside him, holding his own drink with a smile plastered on his face.

“Tell that to anyone else and he’ll skin you alive, though,” is what the older says. “I have been summoned from where I was mediating between two children that shouldn’t be doing what they were doing.”

Jeonghan gasps, and Mingyu knows it was just like last Wednesday: when their too-serious-to-be-normal conversation dissipates into thin air like it never existed, making him realize that this is what the older must’ve meant when he said he lies more than Mingyu thinks he does.

“What were the kids doing?” Jeonghan demands, already looking around. “Is Chan involved?”

Joshua just waves a hand away. “You’re not the only one allowed to be dramatic, Yoon Jeonghan. They were just using Jesus’ name in vain and I was trying to lecture them about being good Christians.”

Mingyu snorts at that, his eyes focusing in on Wonwoo as the haze of his earlier conversation with Jeonghan vanishes to the back of his mind for later use. “I don’t think anyone but you is a Christian in this party, hyung,” he says, as he watches a plump-cheeked boy approach Wonwoo from where the older had been talking to Seungcheol.

Jeonghan seems to have sensed that his tone had changed in the middle of his sentence and follows his gaze. “Ah, right,” he says, his pitch apologetic and high. “Lee Chan mentioned he’d invite him, apparently they go to the same dance club.”

Mingyu expels a breath. “Well,” he says. “It is _his_ party. He could invite whoever he wants. And besides, I told Wonwoo-hyung he could invite him too. He said Soonyoung declined because he was invited to another party. Guess this was it.”

Jeonghan claps Mingyu on the back as if to console the younger, and to be honest, Mingyu thinks that if he didn’t need it, he’d hate Jeonghan for even touching him. Pity has always been the bane of his existence and he’s always abhorred the fact that his hyungs acquire such an expression whenever the topic of his love life is the subject of the conversation.

It wasn’t like his was the only tragedy in the entire universe… right?

“Well, never mind that,” Jeonghan says, turning towards his two companions. There’s a smirk on his face that tells of a premonition which Mingyu couldn’t decipher of whether the good or the bad kind and it makes him anxious. “I have a plan.”

Mingyu shivers and Joshua snickers. “We been knew. What is it?”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof, this update has been long overdue i'm so sorry )): college is such a meanie for keeping me away from writing but i love this au and i deeply enjoy making minwon work for their happy ending so i definitely won't abandon this ♡ as always, tell me your thoughts!
> 
> p.s. don't forget to stream home !! this might just be one of my favorite comebacks ever and the amount of minwon content we get fed everyday during their broadcasts and radio shows is crAZY. let's get this breat, carat-deul!


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